


Dust

by TWE



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Abuse of Fanfiction, Looks like AU but not AU, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9079153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWE/pseuds/TWE
Summary: It was sunny, he was sweaty, and the dust was clinging to places he didn't want to know about.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fragilespark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/gifts).



Each step on the wooden floor gave a satisfying thunk under his boots, followed by the jangling of the chains attached to his belt. As he rolled his foot to take a second step, the floorboards creaked under the weight of his muscle before another thunk as he stepped closer to the bar.

The dust on the leather he wore matched the sweat-clung particles on his face and darkened his knuckles. As he finally sat at the bar, his hand brushed over the hilt of his weapon as if to remind himself of its presence as well as warn those whose eyes had been stuck on him that it was there.

“You shouldn’t be here, Sherriff,” A voice rumbled behind him. If he was threatened, he didn’t show it. The voice was familiar, washing over him like cool rain on a hot day. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck and trailed a line down his spine like he was still in the sun.

“And what are you going to do about it, Fenris?” he asked the other man, tapping two fingers on the counter to order his drink. A soft, cold drink hit his hands seconds later in the cliché style you see in the movies and he downed almost half of it before letting it drop heavily back on the counter.

As he turned, he found himself face to face with the owner of the voice and those perfect dusky lips bare inches from his own. He swallowed dryly, sharing his breath with the green-eyed terror before so discreetly those torturously long fingers drew a line up from where the chaps became trouser, up the front of his pants and came to settle on the material barely covering the skin above his belt.

“You still owe me, Hawke.”

“Carver. Hawke is my brother,” He replied, moving his had to Fenris’ almost bare chest. The vest he wore covered his shoulders and his pecs, and his leather pants were so tight it was almost as if the dark-skinned beauty were poured into them.

“Either way,” The hand snapped to his wrist, gripping it almost painfully. And too fast to argue, Carver made a surprised sound as Fenris almost dragged him from the stool and towards the stairs to the lodgings above the bar. He was only able to regain his footing when he was pushed to the bed.

And by footing, he was on his hands and knees, looking back over his shoulder at the darkening gaze of the smaller man. There was hidden strength in that sinew, and Carver found himself breathless, and soon chap less as those delicate touches undid belt and button and pulled the material from his skin.

Carver shifted his legs, remaining on the bed and not fighting the hands on his body, but he hid his burgeoning erection. It had been forever since someone had touched him; indeed the last time had been Fenris and he hadn’t paid. He was going to pay now.

The moment the cool air of the room hit his exposed ass, he shivered visibly, and shifted on his knees to better balance and hide it. He hated being so vulnerable, but still Carver did not run. He opened his mouth to make some quip or comment but words and breath were stolen the moment the other’s white-hot tongue touched a place he’d never had touched before.

He wasn’t a virgin by any means; frequenting bars of ill repute even before he was of legal age and sleeping with women and men equally. But he’d never been in the position he was now, with a skilled man tonguing his ass and expertly playing with his balls.

The white fire that curled up his spine and settled in his chest was incredible, and he found himself pushing back against the tongue, trying to stop it from simply circling his pucker to moving inside of him. The idea of it excited him deeper than he thought.

Carver’s cock twitched with the barest touch of the skin between his balls and the length, and Fenris seemed to just _know_ all the buttons that would make him go off.

Soon enough though a single finger joined in beside Fenris’ tongue, moving with no regularity inside him and curling as if looking for something. Carver was already a mess, biting and moaning into the pillow while his body simply reacted to everything Fenris was doing to him.

The casual thought of “who is the whore now?” flicked through his brain, but Carver couldn’t find it in himself to actually care. He moaned again, deeper and loud enough for anyone in the bar below to hear what he was feeling as a second finger joined the first, stretching him as the second hand stroked him.

He was glad, in a way, that Fenris was a quiet lover. Using his actions to speak louder than the dirty words he would speak himself to those he bedded. It gave him a chance instead to concentrate on the feeling of the careful movement in and out of those fingers.

A sudden bite brought him from his reverie, had enough to leave teeth marks in his ass but quickly soothed and sealed with that talented tongue. Carver would deny the yelp later, along with the fact that he started leaking with the moment of rough.

As soon as it had all started, it stopped. A lull in the activity could be disconcerting, and Carver lifted himself just barely from the pillow to look back. Somehow, while his hands were occupied in teasing Carver open, the leather he’d been poured into had been taken off and placed neatly nearby. The thick hardness settled darkly in front of mid-grey curls, bobbing and glistening with something more than spit.

He knew where this had to go.

“I want it,” Carver heard himself whisper, disembodied, but there. The smile that graced the exotic face above him warmed his heart as well as his body.

Fenris leaned over the prone, muscled body and stole their first kiss. Rough and commanding and leaving no doubt as to who was in charge. Carver moaned again, his eyes slipping closed as he kissed back, completely distracted by it until the head of the length he had been staring at before began to press against his stretched entrance.

There was little resistance; once the crown had been swallowed by his ring of muscle the rest of the length as it inched inside him, spreading him in the most primal way. Carver’s back arched, his knuckles white as his hands twisted and fisted in the sheets below. It hurt, but it was dull and deep and the feeling of it moving in him was as good as it had been with his own fingers the few times he’d experimented.

The heat raised again in the room as Fenris took control again. Hands roaming his skin and testing for all these new places to make him hitch and gasp and enjoy being taken more.

Nipples. Oh maker they were a new spark of sensation, causing Carver to clamp down and drawing a groan out of Fenris above him. The cock felt so much bigger from that small touch and he knew he’d feel this for the following days.

The slick wet sounds of Fenris moving in him was like music, coupled with the light slap of skin on skin when the other man buried himself over and over was slowly taking the last of Carver’s conscious thoughts from him. And then Fenris changed his angle.

Heaven, Hell, Earth. It all vanished in white fireworks behind his eyes and a cry to the sky that filled the room. Over and over again that sensation was making him shake and driving more of the world from his mind until there was only wetness and black.

When he woke up, Fenris was sitting at the end of the bed, looking at him.

Carver’s stomach was covered in his own come, his heart still racing. His hair clung to him in clumps against his sweaty neck. He had meant to last longer, but how could he with that perfection ruining him on the inside for anyone else?

“Your debt is paid,” Fenris cooed softly in his coffee rich timbre, before he spread Carver’s cheeks again and lapped at his own come that had leaked from Carver’s entrance and over his spent balls. That tongue was magic, leaving no trace of himself on his outside skin and placing a kiss on the remainder of his seed that Carver was already going to wear as a trophy that only he would know about.

“Can we do this again?” Carver found his voice to ask, though shaky in his post coital haze.

Fenris only smiled that little smile, and had a twinkle in the corner of his eyes as if he were _very_ pleased with himself.

“Only if you…”

“CARVER!”

Carver slammed the book shut and hid it quickly under himself.

“WHAT?” He shouted back at his brother, looking around and trying to then force his erection back into his pants in such a way to hide the fact he had one if his brother were to come in. Garrett was anything but subtle, pushing open the door without knocking just as Carver removed his hand.

“You look flushed.”

“I’m not feeling well. But you didn’t come here looking to play nurse. What do you want? Tell me and get out.”

“Fenris is coming for dinner. I’m going out to get the food. If he knocks, make sure he’s comfortable,” Hawke glared, waiting for some visible sign of acceptance of both order and duty. Carver’s head dropped as he nodded, hiding the blush that crept down his neck"

“Right. Don’t make him sick.”

And just as soon as he came, his brother was gone and left Carver with his thundering heart to sink lower in the chair as he hoped the world would swallow him. Of course his brother’s boyfriend would be coming over. But even Varric could see that Fenris was better off with him! Why else would he have written the book?

The bell rang deep in the home and with a heavy sigh and heart he moved from his bedroom to answer the door.

Fenris was  a god in his own right. Perfection personified as he stood there. And then those bright green eyes turned on him and he felt his cock throb in response.

“Carver,” He said simply, expecting to be let in. Instead, Carver leaned in and stole a quick kiss of those lips, thinking it would be his last one. The magic that Fenris had to put his arm inside another would surely be used against him, and Carver waited anxiously for it to happen.

“You’ve read Varric’s latest book then,” Fenris asked simply.

Carver nodded.

“And?”  
  
“I want it,” Carver admitted, unable to lie.

“Then we have some things to talk about,” Fenris replied, grabbing him by the wrist and taking him deep into the house.

**Author's Note:**

> It took a few days to find it, but when it hit....it was marvellous.
> 
> A big thank you to my Roki who added [ this amazing art ](http://sta.sh/01mdxwyh7uun) to make the day extra special.


End file.
